Chapter 4
FOUR
The tutoring center was quiet as I walked in for my shift.
I made my way to my favorite table, tucked in the back corner and partially hidden by a bookshelf.
It wasn’t much, but the illusion of privacy seemed to help students feel more at ease.
They were shielded from the worry of being overheard or judged for the areas they struggled with.
Despite the judgment-free signs posted around the center, it often took students time to relax. But the sooner they did, the quicker the breakthroughs came—which was why I was so attached to this spot. I wanted every student I worked with to leave feeling more confident than when they arrived.
Summer session was much slower than fall or spring, which was why there were only three tutors working here now.
I didn’t mind.
During the school year, life moved so fast it was hard to catch my breath. Having a little extra downtime—and getting paid for it—felt like a small luxury.
I settled into my seat, pulled out my laptop, and slipped into the familiar comfort of my farm. Planting, harvesting, and tending to the quiet, steady world I’d built.
Bear wasn’t online, but I told myself it was fine. This part—the peace, the soft hum of the center around me—was enough. Even if I missed his chaos and commentary.
For ten minutes, I enjoyed my quiet solitude and the familiar comfort of my own little world.
Until movement caught my eye and I glanced up.
With a pop that I felt in my soul, my bubble burst and my calm evaporated.
Foster Kane walked into the tutoring center, and my heart stalled in my chest.
I blinked out of my sudden stupor and jumped out of my seat, scampering behind the nearest bookshelf. I stared at the wall, chest heaving, as I was thrown straight back to a time that felt like it belonged to someone else.
The party at The Den, the notorious football house, was packed wall-to-wall with people as Sam and I looked around the space, our Natty lights in hand. Now that I was on my third one, it was finally bearable to taste.
“Oh, look, there he is.”
“Who?” I asked Sam, looking in the general direction she seemed to be focused on.
“Ryan Donovan.” Oh, right, the hot quarterback she was obsessed with and likely the whole reason we were at this party to begin with. “Right there talking to the guy that’s on the hockey team. Foster. That’s his name.”
I stilled when she said his name and then my heart started racing as my gaze landed on the only boy who had ever made me catch my breath.
Foster Kane.
He was in my English 101 class, and in just the couple of weeks we’d been in school, he’d shown me that I was not, in fact, immune to the charms of a hot jock.
Foster was insanely attractive with his over-six-foot athletic build, his dark brown hair that curled ever so slightly around his ears when it grew too long, and his bright blue eyes. But even better than that was that Foster was smart.
In our English class he was always well-spoken. He answered the questions thoughtfully. He engaged in discussion. He was a unicorn as far as I was concerned.
A hot jock who was smart and seemed kind.
To say I’d had a crush on him would be an understatement.
For the first time all night, I was excited that Samantha had talked me into coming to this party because now maybe instead of being the girl who always sat back and watched as cool and exciting things happened to other people, I would get to be the girl something cool and exciting happened to.
We made our way over to the guys and I snuck a glance at Foster as Sam chatted with Ryan.
He pointed at me, his eyes narrowed like he was trying to remember how he knew me. “You’re in my English 101 class, right?”
My heart felt like it took off in flight. “Uh, yeah, that’s right.”
The lighting wasn’t great in here, but I could have sworn I saw a flush on his face. “Can you remind me of your name again? I’m not the best with names.”
“I’m Abby.”
“Abby.” He said it like I’d just given him the answer to a question on a make-or-break test. “Well, nice to put a name to a face, Abby. I’m Foster.”
As if he needed an introduction. “I know,” I said, giggling.
And then pure mortification hit me because that totally made me sound like a stalker.
I cleared my throat. “I just mean, I know who you are, as in, I’m good with names, and I was paying attention in class, and so I know who you are.” I clamped my lips shut to stop my rambling.
His smile told me that he found it endearing, but my cheeks were hot from embarrassment.
This could not be happening.
Foster Kane couldn’t be in the tutoring center right now.
What the hell would he even need a tutor for?
I glanced around the corner at him, my heart now racing like I’d just gone for a mile run while being chased by a bear.
Seriously, why was he here? I mean, okay, of course he was here because he probably needed a tutor, but he was Foster Kane. Everyone knew he was smart and funny and hot and perfect.
Maybe he was here to pick up a date with one of the staff. My stomach cramped at the idea, and self-loathing flooded my veins like poison.
It’d been well over a year since I was in the same room with him, and I hated that my heart still raced at the sight of him. I’d done everything in my power to avoid him since that horrible night freshman year.
If I saw him walking my direction on campus, I went a different route.
If I saw him in the Student Union Building, or SUB as most students referred to it, I’d duck my head and hope he didn’t notice me.
He never did.
It should’ve been a relief, but instead it left me feeling even more humiliated.
Now I knew that I wasn’t just a bad kisser, but I was also entirely forgettable.
Just what every girl dreamed to be.
He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair that was long on top but short on the sides.
I still remembered how thick and smooth it felt between my fingers.
His blue eyes were the color of the recycling bin sitting on the floor by the door—I refused to compare them to anything flattering.
He was just as tall as I remembered, although his muscles seemed thicker than they were freshman year.
If I had to guess, I’d say he was six three or six four.
I remembered how he’d towered over my five six body when we’d first met and he ducked down to whisper in my ear.
I loathed that the sight of him still made my pulse all fluttery and my stomach swirl with something. I decided it had to be dread because I refused to believe that I could have any lingering attraction for him after all this time.
No, any attraction I had for Foster Kane died a painful death freshman year.
My boss, Marco, walked over to him with a big smile on his face and an extended hand. I was too far away to hear exactly what they were saying, but they seemed friendly.
“Holy shit, is that Foster Kane?”
I jumped and spun around to see Layla, another tutor, staring between the books at Foster. I could practically see the hearts beating out of her eyes.
“I wouldn’t mind tutoring that man,” she said. “It’s not often I get eye candy while I work.”
“You can have him,” I muttered.
The last thing I wanted to do was to be stuck tutoring Foster Kane when I could barely stand to look at him without thinking about that night almost two years ago.
But apparently the universe was having a good laugh in my face because not five seconds after I had the thought, all my worst fears came true.
My boss started looking around the room and said loud enough for me to hear, “I know I saw her here. Abby,” he called out.
Suck a lemon drop.
I closed my eyes and composed myself. I could do hard things. I’d been doing hard things for years now. This would be no different.
Even if looking at him reminded me of the most humiliated I’d ever been in my entire life. Followed by the worst days and months of my life for a very different reason.
With a neutral expression, I spun around and walked out from behind the bookshelf.
Marco’s face lit up. “Ah, there you are.”
I glanced nervously at Foster and then back at Marco. “What’s up?”
My gaze darted back to Foster, unable to stop myself from seeing his reaction to me. Vaguely, I heard Marco talk about how Foster needed help with math, and since I was the best math tutor here, he wanted me to work with him exclusively.
My boss continued to very enthusiastically talk me up to Foster, and the whole time, my body braced for Foster to recognize me—to say something snarky or witty or whatever.
But nothing came. He smiled at me in that way you smile at a stranger you’re meeting for the first time, and my heart fell to the pit of my stomach.
Was it really possible that the night that lived on in my memory as the most humiliating night of my life was a night he seriously didn’t even remember?
Foster extended his hand to me. “Hey, Abby. Foster Kane. It’s great to meet ya.”
I took his hand woodenly, my grip firm, but slightly clammy—or maybe that was him. No. There was no way Foster Kane was nervous enough to have clammy hands.
The second our palms touched, the past slammed into me.
His hand brushing my hair aside, his mouth slanting over mine, the two of us tangled together on his bed.
The heat of his hands on my hips.
The desperate crush of our bodies—until suddenly he wasn’t moving anymore.
Until I pulled away and found him slack-mouthed, snoring, passed out cold beneath me.
Mortification roared through me all over again, fresh and searing.
I squeezed his hand once, firmly, professionally, and let go before he could feel the tremble in my fingers. “Abby Walker,” I responded, even though it was clear he already knew my name because Marco said it several times already.
Marco clapped Foster on the back. “Great, I’ll let you two get acquainted and get a schedule going.”
Then he darted off, leaving Foster and me standing alone in the entryway of the tutoring center. Foster stared at me like he was excited to work together while I was desperately wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
But I wasn’t that lucky.